


Milkshake Bet

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Cumplay, Daddy Kink, M/M, Masturbation, foodplay, literally cum consumption, mentions of pain kink, suggested open relationship/infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:45:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5135123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin bets Michael to drink cum, and honestly it's not weird at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Milkshake Bet

Gavin is sitting on the table with a beer in his hands and Michael is sitting in a chair with a beer in his hands and somehow, like their conversation is a sports car in the wrong lane on a highway, their discussion speedily makes a U-Turn, going from video games to blowjobs in about 3.5 seconds.

“I don’t know why,” Gavin says, already gesturing animatedly. “A girl-- _anyone_ giving a blowjob, really--would ever swallow.”

“What?” Michael says, because it wasn’t like Gavin actually brought that up with a solid transition, but Gavin was prone to that. Erratic subject switches were what made a conversation with Gavin a conversation with Gavin. That, and stupid fucking theoreticals.

"You know," Gavin wheedles, but Michael doesn’t catch on fast enough for his liking. "Cum."

"What about it?"

"It's really... weird."

"Oh, yeah, thanks Gavin for those fuckin' scientist-level observations on jizz. Anything else?"

"Like, you know. How do you swallow it? Doesn't it taste nasty?"

Michael rolls his eyes. "Maybe if it's from your dirty fuckin' dick, then yeah."

"Like... you wouldn't drink it in a milkshake."

Michael and Gavin are silent for a second. There’s a second that passes between them, one that almost stretches too long, where they both consider it. A cum milkshake. A milkshake with two parts; one part vanilla milkshake--well, it probably didn’t _have_ to be vanilla, but vanilla was more appealing in the situation--and one part cum. Straight up cum. Cum from a dick, cum. Cum with all the little sperm in it, _cum._ Honestly, even thinking about it is a straight male no-no, but...

“Would you?” Gavin asks curiously, after an appropriate amount of time after the second had passed.

Michael shrugs. “Well, I mean… I mean if it was a bet--”

“Say it was a bet.”

That was the magic word, and Gavin knew it, too. "So you're betting me that I couldn't drink a cum milkshake,” Michael says immediately, leaning forward in his chair. 

"I mean--"

"You're betting me I can't drink a cum milkshake," Michael insists.

"I guess so..."

"Then, yes. I _will_ drink a cum milkshake. Find me a cum donor. It's not comin' from your British dick."

Gavin already has his phone out before he finishes his sentence. "One hundred dollars you back down."

"You are so fucked."

And Gavin knows _that,_ too.

\---

An hour later, Michael has a milkshake and a donor, and a crowd. Geoff fuckin’ Ramsey takes the milkshake from Kdin and bypasses all of Michael’s eager “fans” to head to the bathroom. They jeer and laugh at him, but it’s all in good fun, and Geoff is laughing too, shaking his head.

It’s the usual turnout for one of Michael’s bets. A scattering of Rooster Teeth employees watching, Burnie and Ashley supervising, Lindsay recording. Michael plays up to the camera, shows his teeth, winks at her.

“Does it make you hot to think that your boy is gonna drink fuckin’ jizz, Lindsay?” he asks, making her giggle.

“We cannot record this,” Burnie says, and his voice sounds on the verge of laughter, but slightly hysterical. Like he couldn’t believe this was happening. But it’s not exactly far fetched--the company is open enough for shit like this go to by all the time. And Michael Jones _never_ backs down from a bet. “I appreciate how much interest there would be in this if we posted it, but we cannot fucking record this.”

"I don't know if we'd find our demographic on YouTube, anyway," Lindsay jokes, but she obediently puts her phone away. "Put it on YouPorn."

Michael’s there in spirit, but he can't stop thinking about the fact that it's Geoff who's doing this, of all people. Out of all the people who Gavin could've suggested to... _jerk off_ in a fuckin' _milkshake_ for Michael to _drink_ for a _bet,_ it had to be _Geoff._

Because Geoff... for forty, Michael fuckin' _would._ Geoff was funny, and handsome, and honestly not all of that "daddy" shit was an innocent joke; if given the chance Michael would get on his knees in front of him and let _Daddy Geoff_ take care of him. He didn't need a milkshake to cover up the taste of Geoff's cum. He would take that whenever. He would drink that shit from the source.

But honestly, how fucking nice was it to think about Geoff fuckin' milking himself for him? That Geoff was in that fucking bathroom with Michael's fuckin' milkshake tumbler on the counter next to the sink adorned with the fuckin' hot pink swirly straw Lindsay had bought for the occasion, his pants down around his knees and his hand in his boxers--or his boxers down with his pants, that would probably be more convenient and better access--jacking himself off for Gavin's dumb bet? He was probably thinking about how dumb it was, too, and how dumb it was that he had to do this, his face getting all hot under his scruff and his cock getting harder and harder as he slicks his hand over the head, and a finger across the slit, smearing more precum for a better slide. Or maybe he was a spit kind of guy, his lips shiny with the stuff, because from Michael's own experience spit worked a helluva lot better than just precum. It felt nicer, not so abrasive, but fuck, maybe Geoff liked the burn. Maybe Geoff liked the burn, and liked getting tattoos, and liked getting bit and slapped and scratched at, because Michael could definitely go for something rough. Lindsay liked rough, but he liked Lindsay too much to rough her up like he would do to Geoff. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe that's what he needed. Maybe he just needed to tear someone apart, or to be torn apart with someone. Geoff would probably give him that.

Geoff could've been giving _himself_ that, digging his nails into his thigh or hip or into the skin of his own hand if he wasn't bracing himself against the wall. Michael could just imagine him getting close by now, his tattooed fingers flashing black over his dick as he fucked himself, about to cum, fumbling for the cup to just...

And Michael is gonna _drink_ that. He didn’t even have to beg. Thank God for Gavin fucking Free, right?

As if his fantasies correlated with real life, the bathroom door swings open and a slightly embarrassed Geoff Ramsey walks out with a recently christened milkshake in his hand. It’s passed like a marathon baton until it finally reaches Michael’s hands and, with everyone eagerly awaiting his reaction to it, he dives in.

Bets, Michael thinks as he takes his first sip, aren’t fuckin’ shit. It doesn’t taste weird at all. It tastes like a fuckin’ vanilla milkshake, with a slight hint of saltiness in it. Gavin’s a fucking idiot if he thinks that Michael couldn’t do this shit. This is child’s play. He’s slurping it down even fuckin’ faster than the barbecue sauce. His biggest threat here is a brain freeze.

...Of course, the bet was probably about the principle instead of the action. He was supposed to be freaked out about drinking cum. _Right._

You know, there were definitely fuckin’ worse things. He'd _done_ worse things than eating cum. This was a straight guy’s bet. There was no way Michael would have to pay up with this shit--he was pretty fuckin’ _not all that straight._ He loved Lindsay and everything, but at the same time he had a bit of affection for suckin’ dick.

He hadn't actually sucked dick in a while. Maybe he had a better chance than he originally thought that Geoff would take him up on the offer, if he agreed to _this._

There's a sudden cacophony of noises as his straw gargles at the bottom of his milkshake tumbler--Gavin's incredulous squawk, shocked laughter, almost inaudible jokes--and to add to the uproar he shows off, pulling the straw out and tipping the tumbler upside down for a good few seconds, proving that there was nothing left but drops, showing his tongue to guarantee he swallowed it all. Burnie pats him on the back, Lindsay kisses his cheek--”My _hero!”_ \--and in the middle of all that Geoff fuckin’ Ramsey is looking at him with eyes the size of dinner plates and a red, red face.

Michael shoots him a wink before slamming the empty glass down on the table.


End file.
